The Hardest Habit to Break
by don'tkillme
Summary: "She wanted to kiss him on the beach. She imagined how he'd taste - of salt and sweat, fear and fire. But loneliness was the hardest habit to break." They survive, but learning to live with what's left is harder than Jyn and Cassian expect.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Jyn

She wanted to kiss him on the beach. She imagined how he'd taste - of salt and sweat, fear and fire. But loneliness was the hardest habit to break, and instead she pressed her face into the crook of his neck, eyes squeezed shut, willing herself to picture their lives together in a single instant. They would fight, at first at least, until their relief at a second chance would force them to tangle their hands together and smile and forget. The Rebellion would win, and they would have a little house by the ocean, a different ocean. And maybe she would even smile down at a daughter, a little girl with brown-black hair who represented all she had ever lost. Jyn laughed, choked on the promise of what could have been, and prepared for the end.

Except the shockwave didn't come, and a Rebellion ship picked them up in time. She still couldn't believe it. For hours afterward she wandered, half-dead, the world around her blurred. She clung to Cassian, her hand draped around his collarbone, refusing to believe the slurring of their heartbeats together, of hers thudding in her chest. She was dimly aware that the crew on board tried to talk to her, but she stared ahead uncomprehendingly. _People don't talk to ghosts_ , she thought. _I am a ghost._ When they landed she tried to stagger out of the ship but collapsed, first onto her knees, and then into a cool, quiet darkness.

Waking under the bright lights of the medbay would have been like heaven, except for the pain. It coiled around her head and shoulders, pooled in the joints of her legs. _That's not right_ , she thought absently, drawing in a heavy breath. _The dead don't feel pain._ Then she heard the beeping of machines, the soft hum of droids, the mutter of people outside. _Jyn_ , someone was saying. _Jyn Erso. Can you hear me?_ She could, though her mouth and tongue were numb, absent, as if she'd never used them before.

"Yes," she managed finally. Her voice was harsher than she remembered.

"Good." It was a doctor - human, or human enough - who returned to his clipboard after glancing at her. "You've been unconscious for three days. Do you know where you are?"

"No," she whispered, still in disbelief.

"You're in a rebel base. On Hoth. The ships had to divert after the Imperial military attacked. I'm sure you'll be briefed on the rest soon." He smiled, as if he wanted to say something more. "But congratulations, Ms. Erso. You'll be fine." Jyn sat up in bed as the doctor turned to go, struggling to overcome the piles of blankets on her chest.

"And Cassian? Where is Cassian Andor?"

"Captain Andor is just there, three beds down. Have a good night, Ms. Erso. Stay warm." Jyn turned to look as the glass doors hissed closed after the doctor, glancing right and left. _Three beds down_ …There he was, pale and still, a bandage on his head and his chest encased in even more. But the monitor to his left showed his pulse, a steady, reassuring beep, and she closed her eyes and sank bank with a relief so heavy she thought it might drown her. She wasn't alone. He was here with her, again.

 _Alive_. 

* * *

Two days later and Jyn was up, pacing around the base and the medbay in thick layers of nylon and furs, but Cassian was still asleep. She received the requisite congratulations, and people treated her with a hushed, reverent respect that was new and awkward and almost unwelcome. She hadn't been assigned a new mission yet, and she wasn't sure she wanted one. In fact, she wasn't sure she wanted any of it, the living from chance to chance. Watching her life narrow before the rush of the oncoming explosion had shaken something inside of her loose, that small part that cried out for an end to running. It was years since she felt safe, since she drank that last cup of milk in her father's house and smiled, nose wrinkled, under her mother's kiss. Jyn hadn't realized how much she wanted that again.

Three days later and Cassian finally awoke for the first time. Jyn perched on the edge of his bed, filled with jittery gratitude, as his eyes settled on her.

"Jyn," he breathed, still hazy from sleep and medicine. She smiled, a real smile, and smoothed the sheets at his side.

"We made it," she said. "Somehow."

"And the others?"

"They didn't." She felt a knot in her throat, the weight of everything destroyed. Cassian sighed, settling back against the pillows.

"And you're all right?"

"Just fine, except for the cold. We're on Hoth. It turns out the medbay is one of the only heated rooms on base." Cassian smiled, reaching out to touch the fur at her collar.

"Lucky me." His hand wandered upwards, skimming the heat of her neck, her temple, the curve of her jaw. She found herself leaning into his palm as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her.

It would be hard to leave when his touch felt like home again. 

* * *

Four days later and Jyn was standing at the threshold of the base, staring into the snow and sky, her breath swelling back into her face like dragon smoke. She looked out into the stars, glittering in the blue-black ripple of evening. So many planets, and so many people, and she was just a speck on one, a crater of ice in the darkness, and her friends weren't even that. Not anymore.

"Are you thinking about them?" Cassian came up behind her.

"Always," she said. He moved closer, his breath warm on her ear, the side of her face.

"We'll keep fighting for them." Jyn grasped the arm he looped around her shoulder, tilted back into his chest. She could feel his heart, just like on Scarif, when everything except him seemed to shrink away into nothing. _We've done enough_ , she thought. _Lost enough_. _How could you stand losing more?_ But she stayed silent and breathed into him, and was a little less cold. 

* * *

Six days later and they were in the mess hall together, still a curiosity to the others on base. Most people gave them a wide berth, but Jyn wasn't immune to the whispers.

"I've heard the rumors too, you know," she said, leaning forward.

"Oh? And what are those?"

"That a promotion is in order for someone, _Major_ Andor." Cassian had the decency to avoid her eyes, to pick half-heartedly at the food in front of him.

"It's not official yet."

"I didn't think it was, though I did hope I might know before the rest of the rabble." He was quiet again, just knit his brows together and shook his head. This silence was different, and Jyn wasn't sure she understood it. She heard the rumors of his promotion days ago and waited for him to tell her, but the moment never came. It tore at her a little bit. _Major_. Another division between them. She wondered if Cassian knew, if he could tell by the heaviness in her eyes that she was thinking of running. Maybe that was why he didn't say.

"Well, it doesn't matter," she continued, lifting her tray into the trash. "I think a celebration is in order."

"Don't be silly Jyn, it's not even-"

"Oh come _on_ ," she said in exasperation, hands on her hips. "When was the last time you celebrated something? We're alive, aren't we? We got the plans, didn't we? Can't we allow ourselves to be happy for once?" It must have been that - her irritated _happy for once_ \- because he rose too, his hand on hers.

"All right," he said, something like a smile approaching his face. "All right. What do you have in mind?" 

* * *

The celebration was three bottles of Coruscant champagne, the best wine either of them had seen in years. Usually the only liquor available to rebels was the home brewed sort, the kind that burned on the way down and hit the head hard. He looked at it aghast at first, questioning where she found them - _from someone who has good taste_ , she replied mysteriously - before giving in.

They drank first to Chirrut and Baze, Bodhi and Saw, to K-2SO and her father, and to all of those that had come before. They were quiet after that, but the champagne pushed through the sadness as they collapsed on the floor next to the bed. Jyn took a big swig from her bottle, tipping her head back. Everything was warm, the night effervescent, and she looked at Cassian from the corner of her eye. He was glancing down at the bottle between his legs, his face softer than she had ever seen, like the man he could have been without the war. Cassian caught her stare and smiled, taking another gulp of champagne.

They talked about a lot, after a while. About the most expensive thing she ever stole (a necklace from the wife of some senator, balking at his mock outrage, _you think I got sentenced to twenty years hard labor by being good?_ ), the first job Cassian ever did (a scout who followed suspicious characters landing on-world), the job she got the biggest paycheck for (smuggling a load for Jabba the Hutt), and his biggest phobia ( _heights_ , he said, _if you can_ _believe it after what we did_ ).

She learned that his favorite color was blue, and that his eyes squinted closed when he grinned, and that the more she talked the closer he inched to her, until their shoulders and knees knocked together when they laughed. When she looked down again her bottle was gone, and golden sparks swam in front of her eyes.

"Prettiest girl you've ever kissed," she slurred, shocked at her forwardness, dropping the empty bottle on the ground.

"That's not a fair question," he said.

"Why not?"

Jyn didn't know if he or her leaned in first, but his mouth on hers filled her with light, and his hands grabbing her by the waist made her teeter perilously close to saying she would do anything, anything, to kiss him again. She broke away gasping, his hands still on her cheeks, but when she looked up there was something different in his eyes, something empty and lifeless and impossibly sad.

"I'm sorry," he was stammering, the words melting together, as she moved towards him again, confused.

"What do you mean? What are you saying?" The room started to spin, started to darken, and it was almost impossible to stand after a whole bottle of champagne, after the last time she drank had to have been months before, even years before.

"I'm sorry Jyn, I'm sorry. We - we can't do this." He was stumbling too, his hands in his hair, backing away.

"I don't - "

"It goes against every rule, every guideline - " She was angry now. She felt it rising in her, tearing at her throat, threatening to overcome her.

"And you care about them? Rules and guidelines?" She scoffed, the room revolving, growing more unsteady and hurt with every word she spoke. "Yes, you're always Mr. Follow the Rules. That's why we went _rogue_ and stole the plans for the death star-"

"That was different!" Cassian's hands were over his face.

"Why? Why was that different?"

"I didn't - we were doing the right thing, Jyn. This is isn't right."

"Really." The words hit her, deflating her, in an instant. _Not right_. "I see. Am I not good enough for you, _Major_ Andor? Is that it?" He was silent, half-turned away from her, mouth agape. "I was good enough for our mission, good enough to drag you off that beach, good enough to hold your hand in the sickbay. But now, now that we're back, surrounded by your _precious_ Rebellion, and you tell me that I'm not good enough?" Was she crying now? She didn't know.

"That's not what I meant." She ignored him, all the fury and grief of the last month sinking into her.

"Fine, Cassian. I'll leave you alone. I'm not used to people sticking around anyway, remember?" Jyn turned on her heel, leaving him to look after her with a regret that she couldn't see.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Cassian & Jyn

 ** _Cassian_**

Cassian learned not to love a long time ago. It was a hard lesson, one in a long list gained in the service of the Rebellion. He mastered it early, too. Young men tended to love carelessly or fiercely, and a wistful Cassian found himself in the arms of a girl at just seventeen, all passion and wildness. Jyn reminded him of her, sometimes. Not in the ways that mattered, of course - Jyn was hard and haunted and tender at once - but in the curve of her mouth, the way her eyes turned up at the corners. The girl filled his world for a few brief months, even surpassing the importance of the Resistance, at least as long as her head was pressed against his chest.

He contemplated leaving with her until a bomb detonated in the heart of her city. A rebel bomb, he found out later, taking out a squadron of stormtroopers stationed around the market. He rushed towards the explosion until a pair of strong arms surrounded him, crashing him to the ground. _They'll catch you_ , his captain hissed in his ear. Cassian heaved, crying, weak. _You never loved her, boy. Tell yourself that. You never loved her._

After that he would smile and flirt, maybe even tease, and a few girls came in and out of his bed. He was always careful to be cold, be distant. He made sure that none were mistaken about where they stood with him, and most respected him for it. But Jyn was that little desert girl of all those years ago compounded, tugging at him, urging him to vanish into her. It was too dangerous, he knew. To risk love again was to risk failure, and Cassian had devoted his life to this cause. Allowing himself to love Jyn Erso would destroy in some small way his devotion to its success. When he talked about rules and guidelines, he realized later, he wasn't talking about some Rebellion handbook - Jyn was right, he didn't care about rules - but his own standard of mournful isolation. In her arms Cassian was hopelessly unmoored, and how could he divorce himself from the only thing that mattered since he was six years old?

Cassian closed his eyes, fighting off the nausea and shame that filled him since he followed her around the corner until she disappeared. He shouldn't have held her, shouldn't have touched her, shouldn't have leaned into her against the cold until all he felt was her heat. It had just seemed so easy that he hadn't realized he was spinning, circling, falling into her like a marble around a drain. She could never be one of those other girls to him, and that was all he was allowed to offer of himself.

And even though something whispered to him that pressing himself close to her, that the warm fire she stoked in him was not - _could not_ \- be a mistake, the next morning he found himself alone in the mess hall, and the morning after that. He looked over at her, at the far side of a table across the room, dreading and hoping to catch her eye. She did glance up once, holding his gaze for an impossible moment, before dumping her tray in the trash and walking away. Cassian felt a pull, a twist in his stomach, and pushed it aside. It was the right thing, he told himself, the safe thing, even if her mouth on his filled him with the relief of coming home.

* * *

When Cassian was asked where he preferred his next assignment - an odd feeling, to be asked instead of ordered - he looked at the star map laid on the table with an empty resignation. _Somewhere far away_ , he thought, _somewhere I can't think of her_. But what he said instead was "Wherever I am needed," and that happened to be on Jakku, a dusty planet on the Rim.

"There's Imperial scouts crawling all over the planet. We want to know why." Cassian nodded, jaw set. "Well, thank you Major. I wish that Jyn Erso had agreed to join us, but she has her own path to follow, I suppose."

"She refused an assignment?" There was a disappointment in his voice that he struggled to cover.

"I think she said something about needing to stay in one place."

"Yes, I'm sure she did." Was that anger? Cassian sidestepped the rebels to slip out the door, throat tight.

* * *

It was strange packing a bag, to be plunging forward with life as if nothing had changed. Nothing _had_ changed, he told himself, nothing at all, except that there was a soft part of him that had to harden again, to grow cold. The war raged on, and he went with it.

So when he saw Jyn at the end of a long white hallway, breath frosting in the air, he was surprised at the shock that crawled up his spine. She was frozen too, finally meeting his eyes with a sort of stiff indignation.

"I heard you leave tomorrow. For Jakku," she said finally, unsmiling. He tensed at her closeness. He could reach out and touch her hair, run his fingers down the side of her face to the corner of her downturned mouth.

"Yes." She swallowed, looking anywhere now but at him.

"Me too. But I'm just looking for someplace warm." She tried a half-smile, but it didn't match the unsteadiness of her voice.

"Well, they say Jakku's a desert. Could be hot enough." _What was he saying?_ Jyn's brows knit together for a moment.

"I'll leave that to you. You're the hero. I'm - what did Mon Mothma say? Reckless and undisciplined."

"They told me you're not staying with the Rebellion." Cassian suspected it for a long time, from the way she stared out into the snow to how she pulled at her necklace, how every time he mentioned fighting again she looked like the thought alone was a weight too heavy to carry. He had hoped he was wrong.

"I think it's time for me to find somewhere else to go."

"Jyn - "

"Don't try and convince me otherwise, Cassian. Don't. You don't get to try, not anymore." She was turning to leave now, and he reached out to grab her arm, harder than he realized. She looked down at his white-knuckled grip and up at him, eyes narrowing.

"Wait - wait. I need to talk to you about what happened, I wanted to say I'm sorry."

"Do you?" She shook him off, all anger and accusation and hurt. _Hurt_. It made him flinch. "Don't worry about apologies. I'm not going to mourn over someone I barely knew."

"That's not fair," he said.

"Oh? Did I mean more than that to you? That's not the impression I got, Major."

"I - " Cassian sputtered, an alien thing to him. He could see her eyes shining green-grey with fury. "I can't let myself be with anyone. _Anyone_ , Jyn." It sounded hollow in his head and it came out even worse.

"So that's how you'll live your life? Exiled from human relationships until the empire is defeated? That sounds _right_ to you?"

"It's right for the Rebellion."

"Then that's the difference between you and I, Cassian. I won't keep fighting at any cost."

"No, but I have to." It sounded exasperated. Defeated, almost.

"Then you're that same lonely person I met on Jedha. That was who I was too. I'm done with it." She was still glaring at him, her eyes wild with fiery expectation. He couldn't answer.

"I'm sorry," he said finally. This time it was soft, plaintive. It meant something more, something that he really couldn't put in words. "Please, Jyn. I am." In the silence that followed Jyn's anger dimmed as she looked away, let out a heavy sigh.

"I'll miss you Cassian." Now she was throwing her arms around his shoulders, stepping onto her toes to press her head in his neck. A hot, ecstatic rush as he squeezed her close, as in a flash he remembered wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her hair, filled with relief that she was the last thing he would ever hold. The fantasy of covering her mouth with his, of gripping her waist, of losing himself in a delirium of her touch. _I need you, I want you Jyn, don't -_ But then she was gone, sliding out of his hands like sheets of sand, like that desert girl dissolving in his grasp.

She looked over her shoulder once, smiling that same kind of grim, wistful smile born from a lifetime of disappointment. He turned around and walked in the other direction, shaking his head, like he could rattle the memories of her apart and split them into pieces.

* * *

 ** _Jyn_**

It was hard to say where to go when her life was spent running. Usually she skipped from place to place, head bent backwards to glance over a shoulder, hopping from planet to planet like stones across a river. The Rebels gave her some credits as she left - really a more generous amount than she deserved - and she did want to stop, did want to find somewhere warm. But really what she wanted was Cassian to wrap himself around her until he was the only light left in the world, but he had made it very clear that would never happen.

She had survived worse. She saw her father die, heard her mother scream. She was abandoned on the streets to sell everything but herself, to scratch out a kind of living from dust and sand and determination. At least Cassian was still out there somewhere, leaving tracks across the stars. It was better than being dirt. Most everyone she knew now was gone.

After he pushed her away, that night when the world was sparkling and golden with champagne, Jyn was infuriated. She ignored him for days. There was a familiar desolation in completing her work and eating her meals alone. She caught him looking at her, once, and she dropped her tray in the trash and left.

She was embarrassed, of course. Ashamed. She let herself become fragile only to be broken again. And when she closed her eyes she lived them, all the moments that betrayed her. _Across from him in the elevator, the set of his jaw and the heat in his eyes. Buried in his arms on the beach, shaking as he gripped her, impossibly tight. His hand dragging across her face in the sickbay, against her temple, her cheek, the collar of her lip. "Lucky me," he breathed._

The truth, as she should have known it from the first day she found herself moving towards him, was that he could not have her and the Rebellion both. And she wasn't brave enough to stay and watch more people die, even maybe watch him die, even if she could use it as an excuse to bore through his defenses, to give them a few brief gasps of time together. _Better to go_ , she thought. _Better to be alone. Loneliness doesn't hurt as much as loss._

She didn't even mean to say goodbye, and seeing him in the hallway made her sick with anger and a deep, horrible regret. _Jakku's a desert. Could be hot enough._ Like he wanted her to stay. It was fine, she thought. It always would be. So she breathed him in one last time, the cold and exhaust and sweet-smelling fir, and left to see if there was anything else for her.

She found herself on Spira, a little planet known for its beaches and pretty women and loose morals. It was a place with minimal Imperial presence, where she was greeted by bright blue skies and postcards of a beautiful half-naked Twi'lek stretched across the sand - _Welcome to Spira! Wish you were here!_

There was little honest work there, though Jyn had never been drawn to walking the straight and narrow. There was a big demand for Socorran Firewater by the resorts, which was officially banned by the Empire after Socorro evaded their control. But there were worse ways to live than to run booze, and Jyn was usually able to bring a bottle or two back with her after a trip. She had a little house by the water where the palm trees swayed and the windows fogged with the heat, and as the Firewater burned on the way down it felt something like happiness.

When Jyn dreamed, though, the memories came flooding back. Sometimes it was her and Cassian on the beach as the howl of the planet cracking grew stronger, exploding into stardust. Sometimes it was his hand on her shoulder, or the quiet satisfaction of their breath fogging together in the snow. Other times it was her father - _I'm proud of you Jyn, he said once, a gaping hole in his chest growing and growing and growing_ \- or sitting in a prison cell alone, her voice rattling in her head, _get out get out get out_.

On those nights she would wander into the cool darkness to the closest bar, where neon lights and laughter and cheap drinks would drown out everything else. She flirted sometimes too, often after sitting down to Sabacc and winning and losing until she was back where she started. A stranger sat next to her one night with dark hair and teasing eyes, who watched her play bad hand after bad hand with increasing amusement.

"Can I buy you another drink? I think you need it." He had the same sharp accent as Cassian. He must be from the same planet. Something pointed and far away turned inside of her.

"Whatever you're having," she said. The cards were dealt again.

"Where are you from?"

"Nowhere special." She smiled. "But you sound the same as someone I knew. From Fest."

"Don't remind me. I only just left!" His eyes crinkled at the corners too.

"So what brings you here then?"

"Oh, same as everybody. Nice weather and pretty girls." He winked at her. _Prettiest girl you ever kissed?_ She shoved the memory away.

"Well I hope that doesn't include winning at Sabacc. I'm down six hands." She dropped her cards on the table and palmed her last remaining chips. The man smiled at her again, and she didn't ask his name.

Later in her house, when she should have started pulling off his shirt without any half-drunk hesitation, she froze in place. He was too much like Cassian and at the same time nothing like him, and the sadness overwhelmed her as she showed him the door, his eyes round and confused and even a little accusatory.

* * *

She thought she could escape the war by staying on Spira, but more and more Imperials were coming to vacation there, and soon the planet was filled with them and their crew. That also meant, of course, that pieces of the Rebellion started to set up in the shadows, waiting for a little chance, another move, a flash of opportunity. So along with Firewater she started running guns. _Only because the Rebels paid_ , she told herself. But it felt good, hanging back, listening to snippets of their conversation. _On and on until we win…or the chances are spent_. They all looked so young, and she felt so much older.

Still, she started to wonder if she lived in idealized purposelessness. She was supposed to be content here on this little beach, supposed to have found that same quiet fulfillment as her parents on Lah'mu. Instead she was drawn back towards the fight, dragging her crates into the back door of a bar, blaster on her hip, remembering the panicky glee of revolution.

Things were tense, though, during one of her usual deliveries. A small knot of rebels were gathered around a table, speaking in quick whispers to each other. Jyn lingered by the door, waiting for her payment. It was taking longer than usual, and the head of the group shot her glances colored by disapproval. Jyn was about to wait outside when she heard someone hiss "Joreth," and "rescue" and "executed," all at once, as a cold rush filled her like ice.

"Joreth Sward?" The second she said it the table fell into a strained silence. Joreth was one of Cassian's old aliases, something he told her that night as he drunkenly recounted the closest he ever came to the Emperor. She teased him about it, hand on his leg, inching higher the more she drank. _Sounds like a pirate_ , she said. He laughed, a sound she still wasn't used to. One of the rebels slid behind her to lock the door.

"Where'd you hear that name?" Jyn ignored him.

"Is he all right? Is he in trouble?"

"How do you know him?"

"I-" Jyn hesitated. How much should she say? Before she could reply she was taken roughly by the arm.

"Get your hands off me." There was a knife on her side and a blaster at her hip, but it wasn't enough.

"She can be trusted." An older woman stepped out of the circle, greying hair and heavy eyes. It was a woman she dimly recognized, surely someone she had seen on Yavin 4 or Hoth or somewhere else. Her stomach fluttered.

"How do you know?" The man holding her barely loosened his grip on her arm.

"Because she knows Major Andor. Here," the woman handed Jyn a note, still sealed, with her name scrawled across. "I recognized you a long time ago." She smiled. "He asked me to give this to you in case, well…in case anything like this happened. It's an honor to officially meet you, Jyn Erso."

She heard it, the surprised murmur that went through the rebels then, but ignored it. Her cheeks might have burned with an anxious embarrassment, with a shame of leaving all of this behind, if not for the letter ripped open in her hands.

 _Dear Jyn,_

 _I know we didn't spend much time together, but you must have noticed that I'm not used to feeling anything for anyone. Maybe you've forgotten about me, or maybe you can't forgive me. Either way, I've thought about you. I need to tell you that if I could go back to our night together on Hoth I would do something very different. There is a saying on Fest that regret is the best teacher. I wish it wasn't. But at least you gave me something beautiful to regret, instead of something terrible. I truly hope you're happy._

 _Cassian_

Maybe she couldn't stop running. But instead of running away, of always looking behind, maybe this time she could run _towards_ something. She smiled and felt freer than all her months on Spira.

"I want to help."


End file.
